Lucius Malfoy was bored.
While these loud and ostentatious parties his parents held every few months were usually a source of constant entertainment, this one was dreadfully dull. His father refused to rise to the challenge in his voice as he spoke of things happening in their world that Father was far too inept and unaware to even realize much less form his own beliefs. What fun was there proving himself the more intelligent Malfoy with such an unworthy opponent? He may only be fifteen, but he’d earned respect and admiration from the men currently conversing in the library years ago, so it was just terribly mind-numbing to attempt to debate a man who honestly could not develop his own thoughts on a subject much less argue them well.
Normally, he would now enter the sitting room, allowing the women the honor of his visit. He enjoyed playing games with women who were needy and unfulfilled by their ignorant spouses. All it took was a charming smile, a cool glance of appraisal, and they were soon flushed and vying for his attention. Mother was quite pleased that he had the ability to cause her companions to forget themselves, always using the opportunity to gain information for future use. This was an enjoyable game, especially considering he wouldn’t lower himself to touch any of the wretched creatures yet had them believing he’d eagerly go between their legs without hesitation.
He found it exciting usually. Tonight, however, the idea was tedious. In fact, he’d rather be forced to attend a Gryffindor picnic than flirt with a bunch of chattering old women who left him cold and no longer provided the humor they once had. Instead, he had sought refuge in the gardens. Some of the younger children had been sent outside, and he could usually find one or two to amuse him.
It was unfortunate that the Blacks had been on holiday as he always enjoyed playing with their eldest son. Not yet eleven and already far too handsome, Sirius Black was a challenge that Lucius could not wait to break. Unfortunately, his efforts had been resisted so far; though, during the last party at his estate, Black had been very curious when he’d ‘caught’ Lucius sitting in the moonlight lazily stroking himself. It wouldn’t be much longer before he’d find out just how those beautiful full lips felt around his cock.
A predatory smile crossed his lips at that thought, his cock hardening even just thinking about young Black on his knees eagerly sucking him until seed dripped from his lips. He’d like to see how smug and resistant the annoying brat would be once he’d had his arse stretched and come dripping down the back of his thighs. Lucius was nearly at the end of Mother’s rose garden when he heard it. Immature insults, proving their speakers to be of the thinnest blood as they lacked the strength and poison of those with the purest of blood.
Moving closer, he looked into the clearing, seeing a boy he vaguely recognized reading a book while two others taunted him. The two, Dunham and Crabbe, which proved his earlier belief regarding their bloodlines, called him the most vulgar and common names, but the boy did not even flinch. He simply continued reading his book. Lucius was intrigued, dismissing the other two children without a second thought, his attention focused on the ugly child with the thick book.
The boy was not at all attractive. His hair was so black that Lucius could see the faintest hint of blue in the light from the torches. It was stringy and thick, hanging around his angular face, entirely too lackluster and dull to warrant a second look. Tall and skinny, not even slender but so skinny Lucius was certain he’d find knobby knees and ribs poking against pale skin if the robes were removed, hunched over a book on Potions, of all things. His nose was horrid. Long and crooked, dominating a thin face with sharp cheekbones and a pointed chin.
He was so unfortunate in appearance that Lucius could not look away. He found the boy oddly appealing. His life was full of pretty things. The prettiest boys and girls wanted his attention. His home was the best galleons could buy. Anything he wanted, he merely had to mention and it would be his. There was no challenge, no real enjoyment. It was what attracted him to Black, the boy who could not be bought with a packet of sugar quills and seductive words and offers of teaching him. He’d break him, eventually, because Lucius always got what he wanted.
This boy, though, was strong and silent. He ignored the insults that were far too low for even a Muggle to utter, much less two sons of Purebloods, and displayed an inner strength that Lucius found far more attractive than his outer appearance. Snape. The name came to him, a whisper in his subconscious. Something Snape. Gray eyes narrowed as he tried to remember the introductions, but he’d been bored already; allowing himself to imagine his father finally dead at his feet as he took control and sought answers regarding the whispers in the shadows around Hogwarts’ older students of a dark lord who was recruiting those of only the purest blood to help rid the world of Muggle vermin.
Lucius stayed there watching the Snape boy, unable to continue on his walk as he focused his complete attention on someone he’d have never declared worthy. Not attractive enough by any means, not of the purest blood, and certainly not a witty conversationalist judging by his refusal to even speak to the two boys currently vying for his attention. But he could not look away, strangely drawn to this dark creature It would appear they sensed it, too, as Lucius did not believe their words were designed for anything more than gaining the focus of the odd young boy.
When he noticed Crabbe going for his wand, heard words of forcing him to do what they wanted, his hand instinctively went for his wand. He didn’t even know this child but the idea of them having him made his nostrils flare and a nerve in his cheek twitch. His grip on his wand tightened as he started forward into the clearing, prepared to play a part he had no wish to consider, that of a hero, but automatically thinking of the best ways to use such actions to his own best interest. Lucius never did anything without knowing how it would benefit him, after all.
Before he could act, the Snape boy lowered his book, his wand in his hand, fingers far too long for his body curled around the wood as he calmly uttered a hex that most of those in Lucius’ own year had never even heard. The two boys ran off, leaving the clearing quiet and calm. Easing back into the shadows, carefully studying this complex and fascinating creature, Lucius watched as Snape’s eyes swiftly cut in his direction, as if he somehow knew he was being watched.
His tongue ran along his lips as he stared hungrily at the boy he had never even noticed until tonight. His eyes were darker than the sky above, seeing far more than a boy his age ought, his hair falling across his cheek as he cocked his head, studying the trees where Lucius was hiding. It was then he noticed the bruise, faint in the light of the torches, his hands curling into fists as he imagined anyone but himself marking this boy. Their eyes met for just a moment before the boy licked his lips and looked away quickly, his face flushing slightly, eyes staring at the book in his lap.
Full lips curved into a pleased smile, lacking the predatory quirk that had been there previously. Black was prey, a challenge to be bested and broken. Snape, however, was different. He was a puzzle that Lucius wanted to solve, to make his own. He wanted. Far more than he could remember wanting anything, in fact. His hand moved beneath his robes, finding the erection he’d had since first spying the quietly calm young boy. Stroking himself steadily as he watched the boy read, imagining the things he would do with him, teach him; Lucius’ other hand gripped the tree, fingernails digging into rough bark, a slight frisson of pain causing him to groan softly.
After he came, his seed spilling onto Mother’s cobblestone path, he lazily licked his hand clean, still staring at the boy. Severus. The name finally came to him. Leaning against the tree, he straightened his robes, his mind already thinking of a plan to obtain his desired prize. It would require time and energy to seduce the skittish boy, but Lucius always enjoyed a challenge. Besides, he always got what he wanted, and he wanted Severus Snape as his.
Smiling smugly, he whispered the promise, “Soon,” into the crisp night air, watching as the word reached the boy. A furtive glance in his direction confirmed that Snape had heard his word, pale cheeks turning red as his pretty little tongue wet his thin lips, curiosity and anticipation seeming to enter his eyes. Lucius laughed softly, the sound husky and sensual, his earlier boredom forgotten as he looked at his future imperfection. Mine, he thought possessively, eyes lingering on the bruise someone would suffer for giving before looking back at his boy. Lucius stayed there against the tree, simply watching and plotting, finding a different kind of beauty in the enigma of Severus Snape.
The End
A Different Kind of Beauty
Story Notes:
7/4/05